When Two Worlds Collide
by behind.her.smile
Summary: What happens when a girl, Caitlyn O'Toole, is forced to reveal her biggest secret to save the family the Donnellys? After everything they've been through, will Caitlyn & Tommy be able to be together? Or more importantly, will they be able to survive?
1. Chapter 1

_Hey all. Just some quick things to point out. Caitlyn O'Toole is the name of the girl in the story. She's twenty one years old, incase you were wondering. Also, I started this story on my quizilla account, littlexmissxsunshine, so no I am not plagerizing. Just wanted to get that straight : please read and review._

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"Morning Mrs. Donnelly," I greeted, walking into the Donnelley's apartment.

Mrs. Donnelly was at the stove, a frying pan cooking what looked like burnt sausage. "Morning, Caitlyn. Are you staying to eat?" she asked in her usual brisk manner. As she looked over her shoulder at me, a small smirk appeared on her face, "And for Christ's sake, could you at least try to wear a coat? If your mother saw you..."

I laughed, shaking off her concern. "You know me Mrs. Donnelly, I never get cold. And no thanks to the breakfast, I have to go work in a bit." Work. I was a nanny for two little kids a few neighborhoods over. No one, well the Donnelly's that is, understood why I had to be so secretive about my job.

"They're in their room, talking about something. You know how they are," Mrs. Donnelly replied, turning back to the bacon she was frying.

I paused at their bedroom door, hearing muffled voices. I could hear Kevin's low voice, "How are we gonna deal with them? You know how fast they'll use a gun on any of-"

I walked in without knocking. "Hey guys."

Immediately each of the boys shot me a different look. Tommy as always looked serious and down-to-business, Kevin looked excited, Shawn looked happy to see me, and Jimmy...well he just looked like the sound of me walking in was only hurting his chance of recovering from his latest hangover.

Tommy punched Kevin, in an effort to make him shut up. "God Tommy, why are you always doing that?" Kevin groaned, rubbing his shoulder.

"Shut up Kev," Tommy mumbled, running a hand distractedly over his hap-hazard curly hair.

"Morning Cait," Shawn smiled warmly, as I sat down next to him on his bed.

"Hey Shawny, at least your nice to me in the mornings," I teased the other three. I feigned a hurt look.

"Look I gotta go to the Firecracker, I'll talk to you about it later Tommy," Jimmy said roughly. He limped out towards the door, favoring his good leg. "Oh and Caitlyn, sorry, g'morning," he added without much enthusiasm.

"Well lord, all of you are really cheerful this morning," I said sarcastically. When no one answered, I directed my question at Kevin, "What's going on? What's wrong with the three of you?"

Kevin frowned, and Tommy shot him a warning look. "Aww come on Caitlyn, why do you always have to ask me?" Kevin whined.

"Cause I know you always crack. Now tell me Kevin," I said seriously.

"Kevin, keep your mouth shut. When I get back from class, we're gonna go figure all that out. Fix Jimmy's mess," Tommy told his brothers. "Come on Cait, we're going," Tommy said, practically dragging you out of the bedroom.

"Bye Kev, bye Shawnie," I called over my shoulder.

Tommy continued to drag me through the kitchen and towards the front door of their apartment. It didn't really surprise me, Tommy I always /I had to take control. "Tommy, where are you going, eat some food," Mrs. Donnelly instructed as Tommy pulled me toward the door.

"Mom it's fine, I'll grab something after class," Tommy replied. Yet he still instinctively caught the piece of rye toast Mrs. Donnelly threw at him. She tossed another one, less forcefully to me.

"First Jimmy, now you. You boys need to eat," Mrs. Donnelly muttered. "And Caitlyn, it wouldn't hurt to get a little skin on those bones." Mrs. Donnelly had been a second mother to me ever since my Mum and I moved to Hell's Kitchen.

Out in the hallway between the few apartments on the Donnelly's floor, Tommy turned to me, "You working today?" He lifted the collar of his black jacket up, so it covered his neck.

I automatically brushed his hands away, and flattened the collar again. "You look rough enough as it is Tommy," I laughed. "And yeah I was gonna head down there, but stopped here first. I wanted to show you something," I smiled, reaching into my gray messenger bag. I pulled out a photograph and handed it to Tommy.

Tommy looked down at the photo for a few seconds. When he finally looked up at me again, he looked so proud. "You took this? Caitlyn … it's amazing." It was a photograph of Tommy painting, but you couldn't see any part of him except his hand, holding a wooden paintbrush, and poised above a canvas covered in rich colors.

"I hoped you'd like it," I grinned, but shoved away his hand as he tried to give it back, "Nah keep it, you're the one in the picture. And who knows Tommy, maybe your mum will put it on the fridge for you," I teased.

Tommy laughed. He didn't laugh all the time, like Kevin or Shawnie. Or even like Jimmy when he was drunk. I always knew it was because of how hard his life had been. After his dad was killed, Tommy had the weight of his family I and /I his neighborhood on his shoulders. I loved when he laughed though, it was this deep laugh that made him crinkle his eyes. "Want me to walk you to the house with the kids you watch? Where is it anyway?" Tommy asked, turning serious again within seconds, the way he always did.

"No I'm good, you have to get to class anyway," I said, carefully avoiding the second question he had asked. "By the way what were you and your brothers fighting about? Your mum knows something's up," I told him.

"It's nothing. But Caitlyn -" Tommy stopped talking and stared at something behind me.

I turned around, wondering what caught his attention. A black, expensive car rolled up next to the sidewalk where Tommy and I were walking. "Cait, keep going. I'll see you later tonight, come to the Firecracker alright?" Tommy said firmly, distracted by the car. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets and walked toward the car.

"Tommy, wait. Tommy don't be stupid! Don't-" I started urgently. But it was too late, the back door had already opened and Tommy got in. Before I could react, the car was pulling away from the curb and driving down the street far too fast.

With Tommy.


	2. Chapter 2

That night, I walked down to the Firecracker. It was the bar Jimmy won in a poker match, and ran with the help of his brothers and Joey. Joey Ice Cream, a really loyal guy, but if only he'd stop hitting on me, I might like him a bit more.

"Joey, how's it going? Have you seen Tommy?" I asked as I grabbed the Guinness he slid across the bar to me. The drink was practically foaming over the top of the glass mug, so I quickly took a sip.

"Nah I haven't. Kevin had to go buy more bread, Shawn left with some girl…she was real cute, and Jimmy just went off to pick up some more beer, but I haven't seen Tommy all night," Joey explained, hopping on the bar stool next to me.

I wondered who the new girl in Shawnie's life was. I made a mental note to ask him about that when I saw him next. I also highly doubted Jimmy would come back from picking up beer without drinking at least some of it. And Joey's comment about not hearing from Tommy, well that worried me, but I didn't let him know that.

"Thanks Joey. Hey do you know what's going on with them? There's definitely something big, I'm worried," I questioned him.

Joey took a big swig from his glass, his signature move for stalling. I stared at him until he managed to get a few sentences out. "Uh, how would I know if they were up to something? Not saying I know anything or otherwise...I mean, why would they tell me if something was going on?" Joey stumbled over his words, obviously confusing himself.

"Because they trust you," I responded. My little white lie seemed to boost his confidence.

"Well your right and wrong. I don't know exactly what they're doing, but I do know it's something with the French. Are you gonna want a refill?" Joey asked, motioning to my almost empty glass.

"The French?!" I cried.

"Yeah, them. Was that a no to the refill?"

I felt my temper rising at how little Joey understood. I grabbed my empty glass and threw it at the wall behind the bar. "The French?! The god damn French?!"

"What about 'em?" Jimmy asked, strolling through the door. "And you owe me a new glass now Cait, since when have you had a temper?"

"I thought you went to get beer," Johnny said to Jimmy, who was empty handed.

"Oh right. Well I saw this truck, and guess what was in the back, Joey. Just guess," Jimmy grinned.

"Jimmy! You're in trouble with the French?!" I shouted, pushing away my stool roughly and stepping closer to Jimmy so I was up in his face.

"What? Where'd you hear th-!" Jimmy asked surprised. His eyes were glazed over a bit, so I knew he was drunk. But I didn't have the common sense to back off a bit, I let my temper rule my body.

"What's going on in here? Jimmy?" Tommy asked in his usual serious voice.

At the sound of his voice, I spun on him. My green eyes flashed angrily, "Tommy! Where the hell did you go today?"

"It was nothing Cait. Stop giving me that look," he added as he took and finished the rest of the Guinness in Joey's glass. He wiped his mouth on the arm of his black jacket.

"No, its not nothing. You and me need to talk, I _now /I _," I snapped, pulling him outside. "You're dealing with the French? The French, Tommy?!" I accused once we were out of the Firecracker.

"How did you- Joey!" Tommy growled, heading back towards the Firecracker, obviously set on beating the crap out of Joey.

"Stop it, Tommy. Don't you dare blame this on him." I hissed, grabbing the back of his black jacket and pulling him back towards me.

But he was stronger than I was. He yanked loose, running back into the bar. He made a lunge towards Joey, but Jimmy got in front of him first. "Leave him alone, Tommy!" barked Jimmy.

Tommy grabbed Jimmy by the collar of his coat and threw him against the bar. But Jimmy refused to give up, and pulled Tommy with him. They tumbled to the floor, rolling around, throwing punches. I saw in particular one hard punch Jimmy took to Tommy's chest. I hated when they did this, how I always had to play referee.

"Stop. It. You. Two. Are. Brothers!" I panted, as I struggled under Jimmy's weight, as I managed to shove him towards the front door, "Go home Jimmy, sober up. I'll bring you some coffee in the morning."

Too drunk to resist, Jimmy stumbled toward the door, mumbling under his breath.

When he was gone, the silence between Tommy and I was deafening. Needing something to keep me busy, I reached over the counter, grabbing a almost-clean towel and a few ice cubes. I wrapped the cubes and passed it to Tommy who held it to his stomach where Jimmy had socked him.

After a few seconds of him not saying anything, my anger bubbled up again. "Tommy, what's going on? Why are you in trouble with the French? Why didn't you tell me?" I demanded rapidly, half angry and half scared.

Tommy's face was as blank as the paper he drew on. When he put his mind to it, he could make his face perfectly unreadable. This was one of the times. "Nothing's going on, everything's fine, stop worrying," Tommy mumbled, looking away from my glaring eyes. He shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets.

"Tommy, you don't understand-" I started impatiently.

His head jolted up, "No Cait, i you /i don't understand. Now I'm telling you to let this go for your own good. Why can't you just trust that I'm doing what's best for you?"

He was so frustrating, the way he always acted as if he knew best. As if he had to do everything for everyone on his own. "And why can't you trust that I can help you? Just tell me what's going on, Tommy. Please, please, please just tell me." Tommy still refused to look in my eyes, so I reached out and grabbed his shoulders with my hands, turning him toward me. "Tommy?"

When his eyes met mine, I was scared by the intensity of them. The seriousness I was used to, but this was different than his usual stubbornness. "Caitlyn, trust me, just drop this. It's gonna be fine, let's just have a drink, okay?" Tommy said firmly, grabbing my hand and pulling me over toward the door.

I yanked my hand out of his, rooting myself to the tile floor I was standing on. "I can't. I have something I need to do."

Tommy groaned, reaching out for my hand again, "Caitlyn, I'll be on my best behavior, I promise," he smirked, trying to lighten my mood.

I rolled my eyes, pulling further away from his outreached hand. "Don't bother, Tommy, you always end up doing what you want anyway." I started to take a step away, ready to leave the Firecracker and Tommy behind for the night.

But before I could move, Tommy hooked a hand behind my ear, holding my face close to his. "I'm doing it because I need to keep the people I care about safe. You know how much I care about you, Cait." His breath was cool against my face as my cheek burned under his rough hand.

I bit my bottom lip to keep from saying something I'd regret. I knew he was being honest. I knew that's how he was. But I also knew he wasn't aware of what he was getting himself into with the French. "I...I can't be here, I'm sorry. I'll just see you tomorrow, Tommy." I took off down the street, needing desperately to be away from the Donnelly boys and their problems with the French.


	3. Chapter 3

_hey all. hope you enjoy :) pleasee lemme know what you think of my story! thanks 3_

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I walked to my mother's apartment, tugging my thin jacket tighter around me as the wind blew harder, whipping my dark hair in my face. When I got to the shabby apartment building, I rang her buzzer. No one answered, so I buzzed rapidly a few more times.

Suddenly the line crackled and immediately my mother's voice, sharp and demanding, came through the small speaker box, "Who is it?"

"Mum, it's me. Caitlyn," I replied.

"Oh, dear come on in," her voice was instantly soft and pleasant, all curtness gone.

The door buzzed, and I walked into the small lobby of the building. A few guys in the corner, obviously doing drugs, tried talking to me. "Hey there baby, why don't you come home with us?" one guy heckled.

I kept walking, up the stairs to room 2B. My mother opened the door before I could even knock. She had her red hair up in big, white curlers and her frail body was draped in her faded, green bathrobe.

"Get in, hurry. I really don't like the thought of you walking around that lobby by yourself, there are some horrible men down there Caitlyn," she scolded, pulling me quickly into the apartment. Her strength always came as a bit of a shock. After my dad left, my mum kind of let herself go. She used to be fiery and full of life, but when she kicked him out of the house, she lost everything except me.

"Mum, I need to see your address book," I said abruptly.

"What? Why do you need that, Cait?" she asked surprised, as she proceeded to triple lock the door, her hands quivering.

I rolled my green eyes. We had the same eyes, my mum and I. She called them Irish green. My green eyes and porcelain skin are what I got from my mum. My dark hair, now that was a different story.

"For an address, mum," I sighed.

"Well whose?" she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. She knew me well and knew something was up.

"Just...Uncle John's, I thought I might send him a letter. Just you know to say hello," I quickly lied, walking toward the drawer in her bedroom, where I knew my mother kept the address book.

She followed behind me and watched as I flipped through the tattered black book. I knew I wouldn't be able to get the address I needed if she was watching me like a hawk. I thought fast, "Hey mum, I didn't get a chance to eat after work today, could you make me a sandwich to take with me?"

I knew it would work. My mum, along with Mrs. Donnelly, was always trying to fatten me up. Some good old Irish cooking would fix my skinny frame, as they so lovingly put most days. Between my mum trying to shove corned beef sandwiches down my throat to Mrs. Donnelly practically forcing me to eat potato pancakes, it was a wonder I wasn't eight-hundred pounds.

"Of course dear," she said, instantly switched into mother-mode, as she hurried off to the tiny kitchen.

As soon as she was gone, I flipped to a different section of the address book. I scanned the page slowly, finally finding the address I needed. I wrote it down on a scrap piece of paper, then glanced back at the name of the address holder, I _Joseph Dubois_ /I .

As my mum came back into her room, an aluminum foil-wrapped sandwich in her hands, I quickly shoved the scrap of paper deep into the back pocket of my jeans. I replaced the address book in her drawer, and accepted the sandwich. I kissed my mum goodbye, and despite her protests that I shouldn't be walking home this late at night and perhaps she should call one of the Donnelly boys to come pick me up, I took off down through the lobby and down the dark streets of Hell's Kitchen.

A few days passed and I still hadn't gotten up the courage to go and see Joseph Dubois. The whole thing with the Donnelly brothers had died down though for the most part. Whether they were still dealing with some problems with the French and just not telling me, or the problem was actually resolved, I didn't know but they had definitely stopped talking about it. That for the most part was good news.

Maybe I should fill you in a little bit first. See up until this year, the big rivalry between mobs had been with the Irish and the Italians. But then this French guy, apparently an important person in the French mob, was found murdered. In Irish territory. Anyway, since then things have gotten a little more heated, to say the least. Besides that one guy though, there haven't been any deaths. Yet. But still, if you're Irish you know well enough not to go into the French neighborhoods and vice versa.

Anyway, back to now. I pulled on a pair of dark jeans and a simple blue sweater. There was a knock at the door of my apartment. I walked down and looked through the peephole. I swung open the door, "Mrs. Montclair?" I said to the petite woman, surprised.

Mrs. Montclair was the mother of the children I babysat. She was small and spoke softly. Her light brown hair was always swept up in a tight bun and she wore expensive clothing.

"Hello Caitlyn. Our phone line was out, so I could not call. My apologies. But the children are both sick with colds, so I will be staying with them today. You will not need to come after all," she said quietly.

"Oh, that's horrible. I hope they get better soon," I told her.

"Yes, so do I. We will still see you next Monday though. Au revoir," she called.

I knew she was anxious to get out of my apartment building. My neighborhood. It was a far cry from her expensive house. "Au revoir," I replied, as she quickly hurried down the apartment hallway.

"Were you just speaking French?" a voice asked suddenly.

"Tommy?!" I asked, whirling around.

"Were you? Since when have you spoken French?" he asked suspiciously, his green eyes searching mine.

"I don't know what you mean. That was just the mother of the kids I take care of, they're sick so I don't need to go in. What are you doing here anyway?" I asked, avoiding his questions and questioning stare.

"Oh right, I wanted to see if you were okay. I haven't seen you much since that night at the Firecracker a few days ago…" Tommy trailed off.

"Of course I'm okay. Just busy that's all," I said distractedly, walking into my cramped apartment, leaving the door open so Tommy could follow me in.

"You wanna tell me why you were so interested in us dealing with the French?" Tommy asked, grabbing the bottle of milk from my refrigerator. He poured himself a cup and leaned against the stove, slowly draining the cup.

"I wasn't I interested /I . Just worried, I've heard stuff about them. They're violent," I remarked, keeping my voice even as I turned away from him, pretending to look for something on a bookshelf. I had to be careful, Tommy could always tell when I was lying. Always.

"As violent as anyone else. I still don't believe you, there's something you're not telling me," he said suspiciously, putting his empty glass in the sink.

"Tough, there's nothing more to it Tommy. I worry about you and your brothers, okay? End of story," I snapped, removing paperback books and putting them back on the shelf to keep myself busy.

Tommy walked over to me, placing his hand on my back, "Well come to the Firecracker then tonight. We've missed you Cait," Tommy responded. He didn't take his hand away for a moment, waiting for my answer.

"Alright fine. I'll be there later, see you Tommy."

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**ah so this one was an extra bit long. therefore I totally believe you should review :) thanks!**


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